


Tallest vs. Tallest

by Marijke_Rose



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Day 3, M/M, RaPr, Whumptober 2020, duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marijke_Rose/pseuds/Marijke_Rose
Summary: Red and Purple go head-to-head in battle! Who will win and what's the prize?For Whumptober 2020, Day 3: "Held at Gunpoint." In this case, PAK lasers are the 'guns'.
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Almighty Tallest Red
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948705
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Tallest vs. Tallest

"It’s now or never," his opponent’s hiss rang out in the short distance between them. Six tips, charged and glowing like fire, spread about the Irken Tallest’s face like a mortal frame. The waves of heat they gave off distorting everything behind them and making it undulate as though it were alive.

The walls and coils of cables that made up the ceiling already bore scorch marks and holes. A window was blown out. Even his armor was in a sorry state. Made of the toughest material in the known universe, it could withstand the blast of a shuvver’s main cannon. The one they used to destroy entire cities with. Yet pieces of his skirt were missing, a shoulder plate was gone, his left forearm still throbbed where his gauntlet had exploded under a volley of blasts. Attesting to the power a Tallest’s PAK legs could release.

Sweat ran down his face. His heart pounded in his chest. His breathing was laboured.

“Make your move, _my Tallest,”_ his opponent continued, spitting the title with terrifying vehemence. “Or surrender to me!” One tip came dangerously close to his cheek. He could still smell scorched skin from earlier, feel it burn. He gulped, his throat raw from screaming, and sucking in a ragged breath.

“I said not the face,” he said in the most adamant hoarse groan his tattered vocal cords could manage. His opponent just sneered at him. His ‘spooch hurt too, from being thrown around the room like a rag doll.

His opponent spat. The saliva hit Purple’s cheek, leaving a cold trail as it slid disgustingly down his heated cheek. He glared into those searing red slits. With his back pressed against the hard wall and his arms pinned by the vice-like grip on his wrists, he arched his back and pulled his legs up, then kicked forward with all his might. His opponent gasped, eyes wide in surprise, as the boots connected with hard armor and sent him flying backwards off of his victim. Purple dropped to the floor and cried upon impact; then there was a _‘SLAM!’_ and _‘CLACK’_ of armor as Red crashed into the wall opposite him.

Purple was on his feet first and stalked over to his fallen opponent. Red got to his hands and knees and shook his head as though to clear it, then looked up in fury.

“That was…” He coughed. Despite his armor, Purple’s powerful kick had still knocked the wind out of him. His chest plate now hung open, cracked from earlier hits and now buckled under the force of Purple’s boots; his chest exposed and vulnerable with only his black undershirt offering a feeble protection. “That was dirty,” he finished in a hiss.

“No. _This is!”_ Purple's own spider legs came out and shot forward, five burying themselves all the way to the first joint in the floor around Red. When the other Tallest tried to move, the sharp tip of the sixth scratched his bare neck, leaving a thin line of pink blood against his pale green skin.

“Ow,” Red muttered unenthusiastically, though Purple knew it was just for show rather than it actually hurting Red. It was already healing as he watched.

“Now who’s in trouble?” Purple asked, then spring up in time to avoid the sudden sweeping kick meant to knock him off his feet. “Yeah, you’ve done that, what, fifty times already?” This time, he had managed to hold his advantage and keep his PAK legs in place. Other series of holes peppered over the floor attested to the other times Purple had had him in exactly this position.

“It only took you _fifty times_ to learn,” Red said sarcastically, then coughed again.

“So, do you give up or shall we see how much more armor we can destroy?” Purple asked, ignoring the jab.

“No,” Red admitted and Purple could tell from his tense grumble just how much he hated it. “If it was anyone else—“ he continued, pausing to take a wheezing breath. “—I would order them executed.”

“Yeah, well, it’s me, soooo…” Purple pressed the tip into the flesh of Red”s neck. “Looks like you’re in trouble and out of luck.”

Red hissed and snorted.

“Say it,” Purple ordered in a stern tone. In all honesty, he was surprised that Red _didn’t_ have any tricks to get out of it.

Red groaned and huffed this time. “Do I have to?” he asked in a nasally whine.

“Yes. Or you can find out if Irkens can regrow their heads.”

“You’re evil.”

“I am, but whose idea was this, huh? Huh?”

“Yours. You’re the one who wouldn”t just give it to me.”

“Duelling was _your_ idea.”

Red groaned. “OH, FINE!”

“Yes?”

“You can choose what we do with the next planet we conquer,” Red said.

_“And?”_ Purple prodded, not about to let Red weasel out of it.

“And you can have _smoke machines_ at the next party,” Red grumbled.

“Yes!” Purple exclaimed, retracting his PAK legs and freeing Red. “Computer, you heard him! - And don”t you dare think you can go back on that!”

_“Yes, my Tallest,”_ the training room’s voice said, affirming it had recorded Red’s promise.


End file.
